


tired bones and ring tones

by paintsplatteredteardrops



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:38:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintsplatteredteardrops/pseuds/paintsplatteredteardrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn't like change, so needless to say he's not exactly thrilled when he discovers Louis has gotten a new phone and their alarm tone will no longer be 'Marimba'. Short, pointless fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tired bones and ring tones

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw all that cute stuff of Louis replacing his iPhone with an Android and Harry tweeting that his alarm tone will never again be Marimba (which he said was Louis' alarm in an interview), which caused a lot of cute headcanons. I wanted to write about it. It probably sucks, idk, I wrote it in like an hour. This is for Dani, who turns 19 today (WOOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY), and girl, I hope it's half-decent because I don't want to disappoint you on your birthday. I am so bad at titles. Welp, hope you enjoy. Feedback is cool, you know. Tumblr - volouminous

If there’s one thing Louis has learned about Harry as a result of being glued to his hip for nearly 3 years, it’s that he doesn’t like change.

He doesn’t like it when a new tour starts and he has to be awake at 6 am instead of 7. He’ll moan about it for the first week, pressing his face hard into the pillow and whining indiscernibly as Louis pulls at his leg and tells him he can’t have five more minutes.

But then, of course, he’ll roll over, whacky weave of curls fanned messy and adorably around his head and full, pink lips pulled into a pathetic pout that would put a five-year-old to shame, and Louis will relent, plopping back down next to Harry and allowing him to curl against his side and whisper, “That’s why you’re my favourite,” in his ear.

Because not only does Harry not like change, but he always gets what he wants. Without fail.

Louis would hate him for it if he wasn’t so bloody adorable all the time.

So when Louis informs Harry he’s traded in his iPhone for an Android, it isn’t exactly surprising that Harry gets more worked up over his boyfriend getting a new phone than any normal person should. Because Harry isn’t normal.

“You got an Android? Why?” Harry pouts, exaggerating the ‘I’ sound as he so often does.

“Dunno,” Louis says with a shrug, throwing off his t-shirt as Harry closes the hotel room door behind them. “Wanted a change I suppose.” He shucks off his shorts next and makes a running leap for the bed, landing face first and breathing in the soft lavender scent of the duvet. Or maybe that’s Harry’s scent lingering from the night before. Harry’s always trying out new body washes with the most feminine of scents. Louis asked him once if he could really consider himself gay when his boyfriend always smells like a woman.

When Harry doesn’t join him on the bed after a few moments, Louis rolls onto his back and finds Harry standing at the foot of his bed, still fully dressed with his arms crossed petulantly. “Whats’a matter, babe? Are you really this upset I got a new phone?”

Harry is silent for a moment, staring at the floor and poking at the carpet with his inhumanely large feet. “We’ll never wake up to Marimba ever again,” he says solemnly.

Louis bites back a laugh, because his boyfriend is the most ridiculous person on the entire planet earth, although he’s sure that’s plenty obvious to even those who didn’t know him as well as Louis. He did, after all, spend the day walking around New York in neon yellow sneakers. “Should we hold a funeral service in the morning then?” Louis says, sitting up and pulling Harry onto the bed by hooking his arm around Harry’s knees and pulling. Harry’s fall creates a huge dent in the mattress, and the impact nearly sounds Louis flying off the bed. Stupid, heavy, curly-haired freak.

“It’s not funny,” Harry grumbles, but doesn’t protest when Louis begins pulling at his shirt, lifting his arms to allow Louis to pull it off. Even when he’s grumpy, Harry is always willing to let Louis take care of him. When the shirt hits the floor, Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and presses soft kisses to the back of his neck and shoulders. He hasn’t seen Harry all day, and he’ll admit to no one that even after just a few hours away from the boy, he already misses his warmth.

“It’s been our alarm for ages,” Harry says as Louis continues to brush his lips across his skin, his tone petty but body pliant as he leans back into Louis’ touch.

“I thought you hated it,” Louis says with a chuckle, sliding his fingers into Harry’s hair to pull his head back so he can mouth at his jaw.

“I do,” Harry said, dragging out the ‘O’. He’s such a child sometimes. Or all the time. It’s one of the things Louis loves most about him, actually. That he could be so mature and self-assured, yet so child-like and innocent all the same. “But I’m used to it now, ever since you forced me to listen to it for 15 minutes straight.” Louis laughs at the memory; Louis had pinned Harry beneath his body as he played the ring tone over and over, while Harry covered his ears and shouted, ‘La la la la, I‘m not listening!’ beneath him. “It’s engrained in my brain now. Don’t know if I’ll be able to wake up to anything else.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure you won’t,” Louis rolls his eyes, releasing Harry’s waist and falling back against the mattress. “Now get naked and come cuddle me, unless you want to whine about this all night.”

“Wanker,” Harry mutters under his breath, and Louis beams at him, turning over and waiting for Harry to strip and fold his body over his.

He does, whispers, “love you,” against the back of Louis’ neck and places a kiss there, because no matter how cross Harry gets, he never lets Louis sleep alone.

*

Louis is used to waking up a certain way. There are typically three things that remain consistent in the daily waking moments of Louis’ Tomlinson’s life; a mouthful of curls, a bony knee digging into his hip, and Marimba. The first two were often interchangeable based on their movements during the night (well, Harry’s, as Louis has always been a still and calm sleeper, and Harry is the human equivalent of a vibrator resting on a table), but the presence of Marimba is always consistent.

Now that it was out of his life forever, along with his iPhone, the last thing Louis expected that very morning was to hear it blaring in his ear, let alone in the low, rocky rasp of his boyfriend’s voice.

“Doodoodoodoodododo,” he hears, warm, wet air tickling his ears and sending a shiver down his spine. “Doodoodoodoodododo.”

Louis groans, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. He opens them and cranes his neck to fix Harry with a dubious expression. “What the fuck are you doing, Harry?”

Harry is hovering over him, his chin resting on his shoulder, arm draped over Louis’ bicep, the light streaming in from the windows casting glares of gold against his bright green eyes. His hair is wild around his face, and his soft smile turns mischievous as he leans closer to Louis’ face and whispers, “Doodoodoodoodododo.”

Recognition dawns on Louis’ face, and his eyes widen. “Is that - is that Marimba?”

Harry grins, looking quite pleased with himself, and leans down to nuzzle their noses. “Good catch, babe.”

Louis laughs in disbelief. “Are you really that much of a sentimental bastard about a bloody alarm clock, or are you just being a twat?”

Harry shrugs, leaning down to peck Louis on the lips before rolling over onto his back. “I am gonna miss it,” he says. “It’s part of our routine. It represents the only time of the day I get to keep you for myself.”

Louis’ heart swells, staring down at the boy with the too-wide eyes and the too-pink lips and the heart too big for an industry that seems all too willing to crush it. He smiles fondly at him, reaching out to stroke the tuft of curls that travelled in front of his eyes as he laid down. “You’re an idiot,” Louis says, his smile stretching into a grin as Harry’s brow furrows in offence. Louis drops down over his chest and kisses his pretty mouth before he can say anything. “But I love you.”

He kisses him again, cupping Harry’s face in his hands and licking softly into his mouth, loving the way Harry wraps his arms possessively around his waist and moulds to his body. It feels amazing, kissing each other awake in the early mornings when everything is soft and gentle and unhurried.

But then, of course, Harry, being the idiot that he is, has to ruin it by giggling and mumbling, “Doodoodoodoodododo,” into Louis’ mouth.

Louis pulls back with an affronted glare. “Seriously?” He snaps, though there is no malice in his voice. Instead it comes out as fond, as it always seems to when he’s speaking to Harry. “Seriously? Do you really value that alarm more than you do early morning kisses? That’s it, I’m done with you and your oversized, ungrateful arse.”

Harry’s laugh is contagious as Louis rolls off of him and makes way for the edge of the bed, and Louis makes sure to keep his back to him to conceal the smile that is threatening to take over his face at the sound of Harry’s laughter. “You’re one to talk about oversized arses, Lou,” he giggles, reaching out to smack Louis’ bum but getting his hand stuck under the duvet.

“You wish your arse was even half the size as mine, bubble butt,” Louis says over his shoulder, still smiling softly. He reaches onto the floor to retrieve the shirt he wore yesterday, listening to the sound of Harry’s fading laughter.

When Louis stands up and turns around a minute later, Harry is grinning up at him with his own iPhone in his hand. “One more listen, just for nostalgia sake?”

Louis rolls his eyes at him. “This whole time, you’ve still had your iPhone, where you could easily change _your_ alarm to Marimba, yet you make a huge fuss of it? God, why do I even waste my time with you?”

Harry pushes himself up from the bed with no hands (which is not impressive at all) and snakes a hand around Louis’ waist, pulling him back onto the bed and pressing him against his chest. “Well, new beginnings are good, I guess. It’s time for a change. Just gonna take a while to get used to, is all.”

“Christ, Harry,” Louis chuckles, raising his hand to clutch at the arm that is wrapped around his chest. “You’d think we were moving to a new city, not changing our bloody alarm. Has anyone ever told you that the drama queen is my role?”

Harry presses his nose against Louis’ temple and hums, stroking Louis’ nipple with one hand and holding up his iPhone with the other. “One more time?” He whispers.

“All right, getter done,” Louis says impatiently. “I’d like to shower sometime within the next century.”

“I’ll suck you off if you let me play it twice,” Harry murmurs filthily, flicking his tongue against Louis’ ear and hiding a sly grin in his hair.

Louis groans. Screw child-like and innocent, Harry was a fucking perverted menace. Harry continued to breathe hotly in his ear, which wasn’t helping Louis’ growing erection problem. “Play it now or I’ll make sure I won’t come for 20 minutes.”

Harry laughs roughly, pinching Louis’ nipple and dragging his hand down to grasp Louis’ cock through his boxers. Louis bites his lip. “With my mouth you’re almost certain to.”

“Fuck this,” Louis breathes, grimacing as his cock hardens further at Harry’s touch. He pushes up from against Harry and grabs the phone from his hands, finding the already open Marimba audio file and playing it twice. Harry moves his head goofily along with the music as it plays, eyes closed and smile thin, and Louis glares at him because he refuses to find it endearing when his dick is hard and he hasn’t even got his pants off yet. “Ya happy?”

“Very much so.”

“Great. Now I’m gonna go start the shower and if you’re not in there and on your knees in the next minute and a half, our new alarm tone will forever be ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together’ and there’ll be nothing you can do about it.”

Harry is unfazed, because he sees the look of disgust on Louis’ face as he says it, and Louis hates Taylor Swift far more than he does. He makes a face of mock horror at Louis, who glares at him and snaps his fingers impatiently before turning to open the bathroom door.

Harry smiles as he watches Louis retreat to the bathroom, opening Twitter on his phone and typing out a tweet, before hopping out of bed and moving to join Louis in the shower.

His smile is triumphant as he steps into the spray, turning Louis around and sliding their wet mouths together with a hand on Louis’ cock.

_@Harry_Styles: As of this morning, Marimba will never again be my alarm tone._

**Author's Note:**

> This was written at 3 am and I don't really write fluff so I hope this is up to par, and I hope it was enjoyable, especially for you Dani <3


End file.
